So, I noticed in my first chapter that the Ferris wheel in Pacifica isn't collapsed, so let's just… ignore that detail from Chapter 2.
I've been putting off writing this chapter because I've wanted to be in a good mind space for it – that is, to say, be 'in the zone'. And, I just wasn't, so I sat down and forced myself to write and write and write and delete stuff and then write again and, whaddaya know, I wrote this chapter and about 1,000 words of the next chapter, so, that should be up tomorrow (fingers crossed).
20:45 11th August 2089
H3 Megabuilding, Wellsprings, Heywood
The rain was starting to come down hard when Vito made his way up from the garage and into the ground floor of the Megabuilding. It stood up high like a monolith of concrete and stone, illuminating the darkness of the sky like a beacon.
The entrance was bustling with people, each one with their own unique story to tell. The rockerboy in torn denim and leather, the laser-pop kid with her radiant green hair and luminescent wristbands. The noise always struck Vito – the hum of machinery mixed with the chatter of people created a constant background noise that seemed to fill every inch of the building. The air wasn't quite like Watson – no thick stink of sweat, oil, and other industrial scents. It was clear that Vito was back in Wellsprings.
As he entered the lobby, Vito was greeted by the sight of dozens of people going about their business. The lobby was a hive of activity, with people rushing back and forth, carrying boxes, tools, and other equipment. The walls were adorned with posters advertising the latest and greatest in technology, and a huge holographic display in the centre of the room showed off the building's various amenities.
The lobby was abuzz with activity, with vendors selling their wares and people rushing to and fro, each with their own purpose.
The detective weaved his way through the crowd, his eyes scanning the faces around him – quite a few weren't residents, but homeless citizens who'd come to beg. Though this was Vito's very own megabuilding, and while he appreciated the (relative) safety and luxury it provided, he couldn't help but feel a sense of unease at the gulf that separated the haves and the have-nots.
He reached the elevator and hit the button for the 9th floor, his heart pounding with nervous anticipation. As he waited for the elevator to arrive, he felt a sense of frustration building inside him. He knew that time was running out, and he couldn't afford to waste a moment.
When the elevator doors finally opened, the detective stepped inside and hit the button for the 9th floor. The journey was long, with occasional stops to let other residents on and off. Vito tried to remain calm and focused, but his mind kept racing.
As the elevator ascended, his thoughts turned to the Valentinos. He knew they were one of the most dangerous gangs in the city, with a reputation for ruthless violence and intimidation – had a punishment for every occasion. He had dealt with them before, and he knew that they wouldn't hesitate to take on a kid from Heywood.
Finally, the elevator doors opened on the 9th floor, and the detective stepped out into the hallway. He double-checked the NCPD database for Miguel Herrera. He supposed that, in time, he'd appreciate the irony – his files had been klepped four days ago, and they had been sitting a single floor below his apartment.
Coming to the door stamped in silver paint with 0086, Vito rapped his knuckles against the orange metal and waited.
"Yeah?" Came a young voice from inside.
"NCPD, open up, please," Vito said, looking up and down. He saw some Valentino kids further on down.
"Got a warrant?"
Vito took a second to process the voice before speaking again. "Yeah, we don't really need warrants anymore, Joel," Vito informed him. "So, how about you just open up the door and we'll chat?"
A moment passed before the door opened, and Vito saw the younger kid, wearing a gold chain over a red tank top, exposing the rose tattooed on his shoulder. "You gonna arrest me?"
"No," Vito shook his head. "Where's my files?"
"Tossed 'em," Joel shrugged.
Vito chuckled in response. "Kid, just get them, will you?"
Joel chewed his tongue before walking over to the living area and picked up some paper files from beside a purple bean bag chair. He held them out to Vito, who opened them up and began checking the contents were still there.
"Who even uses paper?" Joel asked.
"It's hard to hack a paper file…" Vito explained absent-mindedly, still checking the pictures, notes and transcripts were there.
"Easy to klep, though."
Vito's sky-blue eyes flickered back to the kid before he closed the files, placing them under his arm. "I know someone targeted your sister," Vito stated. He saw Joel's face harden. The kid began to walk around the apartment, picking up a black-and-red edgerunner jacket, stamped on the back with a white 'Valentinos'. "Your uncle Milo's got priors. And the body-count is too low to be a cyberpsycho attack, so… this was retaliation?"
"If you say so," Joel shrugged.
"You don't seem that surprised," Vito commented.
"I'm from Vista Del Ray."
"Yeah, I lived out there for a while," Vito nodded. "Listen, I know you want these people to pay- I want them to pay, but…"
"But what?"
Vito paused, trying to think about how he could appease this kid and get him to co-operate. "Listen, just tell me who it was. I can put this right-"
"Put it right?" Joel frowned.
"Okay, the guy who did this? I can put them behind bars. They won't hurt anyone, ever again – I'll see to it."
"No idea who it was," Joel insisted as he sat down and pulled on his shoes.
"I get it. Valentino code of honour – 'deal with them ourselves', you said, right?" Vito tried to meet Joel's eyes. He knew the boy was desperate to avenge his sister's murder, and he feared that he would be drawn into the world of the Valentinos if he wasn't stopped. "But I told you, there's a difference between revenge and justice. So, if you go out and try and do this yourself… Joel, that won't solve anything."
Joel scoffed. "Y'know, you might've lived in Vista Del Ray, but it's clear you didn't grow up there." He glared at Vito. "My sister died a month ago, yesterday, and you've only just figured out someone wanted her dead?"
"These things take time," Vito tried to explain, "I never want to get the wrong guy, and I never want to make any mistakes, but most of all, I…" Vito took a breath and gave an earnest shrug, "I just don't want to wake up in the morning and find another dead kid."
"You don't get it, do ya?" Joel scoffed again. "All there is, is dead kids."
"This doesn't have to end with someone else dying," Vito urged him.
"So, what," Joel said, approaching the door with his hands in his pockets, staring up at him. "Gonna lock me up without cause? What's that, a year?"
"I ain't that type of cop," Vito replied. "I'm just trying to help you, kid. I've seen a dozen go down this path, and it always ends the same way-"
"Forget it, Detective," Joel shook his head as he walked out of the apartment. Vito followed him out, closing the door behind them. Joel glanced down to the Valentino boys a little ways down before turning back to Vito. He took a long breath. "It's Night City."
Vito remained there, watching as Joel walked away towards the group of boys, who began to walk away, glancing warily at Vito before talking to each other in Spanglish. Vito hung his head, scratching the back of his head. He'd lost the battle and the war. There was not a single part of him that doubted Joel was going to find whoever was responsible for his sister's death. And, sure enough, Vito would be there to find the body. Life as a homicide detective. It was a cycle – a delicate ecosystem. The natural state of their world.
"It's Night City…" Vito echoed the sentiment to himself as he turned back to the elevator and went to ascend a single floor. The grate closed and Vito stood alone. Part of him wanted to start shouting but he just lacked the energy. All he wanted to do was return home to his apartment, change out of his sopping wet clothes and sleep.
But, as Vito trudged along, he found someone curled up at the door of his apartment. Another young boy, dressed in torn jeans and a bloodied Second Conflict t-shirt. His golden Arasaka cyberarm was scuffed and dirtied, hanging limply from the boy's shoulder and cradled in his lap by his other hand.
"Jesus, Freddy," Vito said walking forwards and crouching down to touch the boy's shoulder. Freddy's eye opened – the one that wasn't so swollen and black it had to stay shut. "What happened to ya?"
"Didn't have enough for the clinic," he rasped.
Vito opened his door and then helped carry Freddy inside. "Who did this to you?"
"No-one, I didn't get a look at them…" Freddy began.
"Which one, Freddy?" Vito asked.
"I don't know," Freddy said sternly. "I just need a place to crash, my mom's back tomorrow…"
Vito let out a long sigh and nodded. "Okay, well… okay, listen, I'm gonna get a shower running for ya and I'll… I'll get you some fresh clothes, okay? We'll get you seen to in the morning."
"No, seriously, I just need sleep-"
"Yeah, you're not about to get that blood on my sheets," Vito said as he took Freddy to the bathroom area. "You good to stand?"
"Yeah, fine…" Freddy winced, leaning against the wall.
Vito walked around and turned the shower on, then walked back to Freddy and sat him down on the toilet. He laid a towel in the sink along with a block of soap. "Sorry I don't have more, I…" Vito shrugged. "Listen, get that blood off you, I'll leave some fresh clothes on the bed and…" Vito glanced around, finding nothing except the S.C.S.M in his room. "Burrito?"
Freddy gave a small smile. "Sure."
Vito walked across to his wardrobe and began sifting through his clothes. An old pair of Cadet shorts he used to wear to the gym when he was training, and a Rangers jersey he'd long since outgrown. He wasn't particularly attached (nor fond) to either.
Vito laid the clothes out on the bed and then walked over to turn on the radio, switching stations until he found a Flatlander Woman track playing on Pacific Dreams. Vito cast a hand over his face and took a long breath before opening the blinds and looking out of the window, across the boundless ocean, stretched out across the horizon. He could still make out the beach down below, along with the pier of the Seaside Café. He craned his neck and could still see Pacifica's Coastview out to the left – still decrepit and crumbling as ever. The Ferris wheel of Eden Beach Mega Ride, still standing tall.
The world had suffered many losses. A little girl and her brother's soul to name a few. And the next day there would only be more. But that Ferris wheel would continue to turn. Vitomir couldn't help but focus on it and echo his own thoughts. Night City thrived on death. That was its ecosystem. The only thing that kept the cogs turning; what kept him in a job and Arasaka weapons selling, rivalling Militech, forcing gangs into warfare and killing more people.
"It's Night City," Vitomir repeated to himself. "Fucking Night City."
Man, a bit depressing, wasn't it? I really tried to channel some noir vibes – did anyone notice me sneaking in that iconic Chinatown line? So, yeah, this story is almost over. Two more chapters to go, and I've wrapped up almost every storyline!
EDIT: I also need a couple more characters, and the sooner I get them, the better. So, anyone interested, lemme know!
Oh, yeah, and review and all that jazz.
R.